


Heart-Shaped Box

by she_elf4



Series: The Khan Files [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Intersex, Intersex Kirk, Leonard "Bones" McCoy - Freeform, M/M, Nyota Uhura - Freeform, with friends like these
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_elf4/pseuds/she_elf4
Summary: When Kirk finds himself in a strange place with no memory, he does the sensible thing and tries to get help. But, the more people he talks to, the more enemies he finds. What happened to seemingly turn the world against him? Can his new acquaintance, John Harrison, help him solve the mystery? Tags updated.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Khan Noonien Singh, past James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: The Khan Files [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958935
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Trektober 2020





	Heart-Shaped Box

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't quite get the entire story out in one go, with so many other stories I'm doing for Trektober. So, here's the first chapter. The original inspiration was another prompt I ran across. My idea for that prompt happened to fit the Amnesia theme for Trektober day 18.

I opened my eyes and found myself sitting on a park bench. Had I been sleeping? I couldn't really remember. In fact, I couldn't remember how I'd gotten here, or what I'd been doing before this, either. I looked around me. There were a few people here and there, mostly ignoring me. Every once in a while someone would shoot me a dirty look. I vaguely wondered why, but then figured it didn't matter. Looking down, I noticed the box for the first time. It was metal and had some kind of automated lock on it. I wasn't really sure what it was for, but it must be mine since I had it, right?

Standing up, I fell right back on the bench. My legs were cramped and almost asleep. Guess I must have been sleeping on it, then. I stretched a little, picked my box back up, and went walking. I wasn't sure where I was going, but obviously, I needed to leave the park. I wandered around for a while before passing by a medical center. I stopped for a moment. I seemed to be having memory problems. It could be, had to be, something medical, right? And people generally go to the medical center when they have medical problems. So decided, I entered the building and went to the front desk.

"What do you want, Kirk?" the woman at the front desk asked with a scowl. She was looking at me, so obviously I was Kirk. I briefly wondered why I hadn't known that, and if Kirk was my first or last name.

"Uh, I seem to be having memory problems," I said with a smile. She rolled her eyes slightly and told me to sit down and wait for the doctor. I did so, and a few minutes later a pretty blond called my apparent name. I got up and followed her back. She didn't introduce herself.

"Back again, Kirk?" she asked with a slight frown. 

"Yea, I seem to be having some memory problems, like finding myself somewhere and not knowing why, not remembering important stuff, that kind of thing," I answered with another winning smile.

She stared at me with consternation, but at least she didn't roll her eyes like the lady at the front desk. "It's been one day, and you're already flirting? And you're still carrying that thing around!" she exclaimed, gesturing to my box.

"Look, I don't know what everyone's problem is, but I really did just come in for some memory problems," I snapped, finally having enough.

"Yea, alright. Just sit back and relax," she relented, taking out a medical tricorder. She waved it around my head for a moment before setting it aside. "I can't find anything wrong with your head. Not anything new, anyway. It's probably just stress. You've been through a lot in the last few days. Try to rest and relax for a while, don't worry about finding work. It should pass on it's own. Now shoo, I have other patients to see."

I got up and left, more confused than when I went in. What had happened yesterday that was so stressful? Why couldn't I remember it, and would it really come back on its own? She had also said not to worry about finding work. It was probably just a job loss or something. But still, why would losing my job make me this crazy? I kept turning these thoughts over and over in my mind while wandering the medcenter aimlessly. Passing by a public replimat, my stomach gave a growl. I stopped and got into line behind a tall, dark-haired man in a black uniform. Tapping him on the shoulder I asked, "Hey, is this one of the free replimats, or the pay-per-use kind?"

"It's a free one. New to the area?" He answered, turning around. He had a nice British accent.

"Sort of. Can't really remember, honestly. Memory problems," I said.

"Those are never fun, I can sympathize," He said with a slight wince. "John Harrison. And you?" He stepped up to the replimat and ordered chicken curry. 

"Kirk," I said with a nervous smile. I really wished I knew what my full name was. I ordered a chicken sandwich, and tried to avoid his odd look.

"No first name to go with that?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. He sat at a nearby table.

"I assume so," I said honestly. I couldn't quite manage to hold the smile anymore. I stood by the table, not sure if he still wanted to talk to me. He gestured to a seat and I sat down, setting down my box in the empty chair.

"The memory problem?" John asked. He looked concerned.

"Yea. Doc says it's nothing and should pass on its own, though," I said. I took a bite out of my sandwich, avoiding his probing gaze.

"What all do you remember?" John asked. His food lay forgotten.

I shrugged. "I remember basic stuff, like what a chicken sandwich is, or how to use a replicator. But before I woke up this morning..." I trailed off. I looked down at my sandwich, which suddenly didn't seem so appetizing.

"Sounds pretty serious to me, like some form of amnesia. Although, to be fair, it can sometimes pass on its own." John paused for a moment, seemed to consider something. "At least, it did for me." With that, he started his lunch. 

"You had amnesia? How quickly did it pass?" I asked.

"Yes, it started to pass about a year ago. Mine was caused by physical factors, so it was slightly different from yours. But it began to pass when my brain healed," he said.

I was about to ask him some more questions when an angry-looking brown-haired man in medical blue approached our table and glared at me. "You know, when Carol called me up and said you were here again, for the second day in a row, making up complaints and flirting with the nurses, I didn't believe her. I thought, surely, even you wouldn't stoop that low. What the hell is your damn problem, Jim?" He wasn't quite shouting, but people were beginning to stare.

"I'm just sitting here, talking to an acquaintance and eating lunch. Minding my own business. You're the one with the problem. You and the rest of the goddamn city." I didn't even try to hide my annoyance this time. Seriously, what gave? "And how the hell would you know if I'm making up complaints?" 

"Oh, don't even start with me. I know you better than that. And what are you--" I didn't give him a chance to finish, instead getting up and walking away. Thankfully, he didn't follow. Just outside the medical center, I saw a bench and sat down.

Someone sat down next to me a few minutes later. After a minute I glanced over and saw it was John. His expression was worried, but he wasn't staring at me. I just let the silence stretch on, glad there was at least one person who didn't apparently hate me. "Do you have any support at all?" he asked after a few minutes.

I shrugged and shook my head. "I don't know what's going on. People have been doing that all day. I woke up on a park bench, no idea how I got there or where I was supposed to be, and everyone was glaring at me. And everywhere I go, people..." I trailed off. I was glaring off into the distance, even though I was more upset than angry. I briefly wondered why I did that.

"If you'd like help, I'd be more than happy to," John said, also looking off into the distance. "I know what it's like, it's not something you should go through alone."

"You probably won't be very popular," I mumbled. 

He was quiet for another minute. "Come on," he said, getting up. It was then I noticed he was carrying my box.

"Where?" I asked, getting up without actually intending to.

"Back to my flat. Unless you'd rather return to the park bench?" he said. I broke into a smile and followed him.


End file.
